


Helvete

by Orcbait



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Chases, Draenei, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gladiators, Orcs, Rape/Non-con Elements, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcbait/pseuds/Orcbait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In light of the up-coming gladiatorial games at Durnholde the dreanei lady Rosalyne Lightdawn visits her childhood friend Aleeria Stormseer to discuss their strategies for the coming season. Unbeknownst to her, Aleeria does not usually keep her gladiators locked within the pits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helvete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosalyne Lightdawn (Rosalyne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalyne/gifts).



> You can deny it all you want Rosa, but I know - I KNOW - you want Rhaego. And who am I to not give you what you want?
> 
> To everybody else: this vignette is based on 'Ludi Gladiatorum', one of the Alternative Universes part of our joint project 'The Timeways' which shamelessly misuses the concept of the Caverns of Time to indulge our AU-ideas. Ludi Gladiatorum, and the other Timeways, will eventually be uploaded here on AO3org too.

IT HAD BEEN a while since Rosalyne Lightdawn had visited her friend Aleeria Stormseer, several weeks had come and gone at the very least! With the upcoming gladiatorial tourney at Durnholde Keep Rehgar Earthfury had kept her busy with the dreary tasks of making certain everything was well arranged for. Undoubtedly Orgrim Doomhammer had kept Aleeria occupied with much the same. However, everything was arranged for now. The only thing they had yet to decide was whether they would each send seperate teams and champions, or whether they would merge their teams. The Light knew Garrosh and Lo'gosh had been clamouring for the latter.  
     She happened to know Lo'gosh couldn't stand the two orcs – Rhaego and Grommash - he shared his new home with. Rhaego 'Blood-eye' Redfist, of course, refused to team up with anyone and in return everyone refused to team up with him. For good reasons. That was not such a big problem, at least for Aleeria. They had to send at least one champion to list for single combat and Redfist did happen to excel at that. However, Rosalyne had no idea who she would send and, unsettling as it might sound, neither had Rehgar. After all, Redfist had been their champion until Aleeria had offered an exorbitant amount of gold for the Orc and bought him. Rosalyne had been glad to be shod of the green miscreant but she had not thought to replace him, and she was suffering the problems that resulted in now. It was therefore that Rosalyne had decided to visit her friend so that they might speak of whether to pool their warriors or not. Everyone knew their Ludi were one in all but name anyway.  
"Aleeria?" Rosalyne called as she walked up the spiralling staircase to the old manor's main floor. She always had to make sure she remembered where she went; the place was a veritable maze - a strangely empty maze at the moment. She wondered where Aleeria might be. "Aleeria!" she called again as she walked down the landing towards what she thought were Aleeria's private rooms.  
"She ain't here.” The deep growl was barely recognisable as speech and it had come from very, very close by. Rosalyne all but jumped out of her skin at the sound. She'd sworn the landing was empty when she came up the stairs! She whirled around and stared at Redfist, his tall frame leaned casually against the carved balustrade. He appeared to have no weapons with him and he wore merely a loincloth and the leather wrappings around his hands and wrists, and feet and shins, the myriad of black, twisting tribal tattoos vanning out across his chest contrasting starkly with his green skin. What was _he_ doing here?  
"What are _you_ doing here?" she said, voicing her thoughts.  
     A slow grin tugged the orc's lips up around his engraved tusks. "I live here," he replied, a tad smugly. "What are _you_ doing here, little bird? Lost the way to your cage?"  
What the... Did he just? How _dare_ he... A great deal of bottled up stress and anger suddenly reared inside of Rosalyne. "My goings on are none of your business, _slave_ ," she replied icily, "it seems to me you're the one who slipped his leash". She motioned towards the stairs. "This way," she continued, "you wouldn't want your lord or lady to find you going about their things. Come quietly and I'll consider asking them not to punish you too harshly".  
     However, the orc made no indication of meaning to move. A look played about his face as if he had just heard a particularly funny joke. Summoning all the loathing she could muster Rosalyne stalked towards the large orc and glared up at him, standing but an inch away. "Now," she said through clenched teeth.  
"Or else?" he inquired, cocking his head sideways, his unbound black hair accentuating the movement in an almost comical way.  
"You'll be sorry…" she replied, her voice dangerously soft.  
"I don't think so..." he growled as he leaned his face close to hers, his large tusks nearly nudging her skin. A smirk split around them. "Tell me, little bird, is it true what I hear of how well you sing?"  
     A shocked expression appeared on Rosalyne's face a fraction before the flat of her right hand found his cheek all of its own accord. Though the slap rang loudly through the silent hall and her hand stung ferociously, the orc didn't so much as flinch, didn't even blink his single good eye.  
     With a sudden sense of apprehension she watched the imprint of her small hand outline itself against the green skin. ‘ _Oh, it's not so bad! Just don't give him a reason to get up set!_ ’ Yes. ‘Up set’ was what Aleeria called Redfist’s berserk rages. Rosalyne didn't know what was among the things that habitually made the orc 'up set', but she feared now that being hit was among them. Staring at the orc's continued grin she'd have given a great deal to turn back time.  
     She nearly fainted when she felt something brush past her behind. Before she could stop herself she had slapped him again, harder this time, and taken several steps backwards. "Keep your paws to yourself," she hissed as she glared at him. Yet the orc's expression did not change, if anything his grin became broader still. It was beginning to unnerve her. Perhaps he really _was_ crazy. Not a particularly comforting thought.  
     When he took a step towards her she took one backwards, feeling suddenly threatened. Yet she dare not look away from him – it might set him off. However, when she saw him reach for her again she spun around and darted down the stairs on instinct alone, back the way she had come. Her heart was thundering in her chest as she took the steps two at a time. She had to find Aleeria! Or Orgrim! Or someone! Anyone!  
Redfist watched her fly down the stairway, the swift click of her hooves stirring his blood. With a snort he walked to the balustrade, put a hand on it and jumped over. The sound of the orc landing on the polished marble below was loud as thunder. Rosalyne froze abruptly, one hoof still on the lowest step of stairs.  
"Fly, little bird," Redfist growled softly as he observed her from his crouched position. She stood as if rooted to the floor, like a talbuk confronted by a predator. He feinted and she spun around in response, dashing back up the stairs, her skirts whirling around her legs. A grin flickered across Redfist’s features as he watched her go. He leaned on his haunches and threw his head back, a deafening roar tearing itself from the orc’s throat. It was not unlike Grommash’ infamous battlecry – who was not called ‘Hellscream’ for nothing – but it was lower, deeper of sound and, in its own way, more terrifying. His was not the victorious cry of a warrior, but the howl of a predator that had found prey. And as he drew out the roar he rose and gave chase.  
     It wasn’t very long until Rosalyne could hear the resounding thuds of his heavy footfalls behind her on the wood boarding of the landing. Running as swift as her hooves would carry her she sped down the manor's hallway. Slipping on a worn board as she scrambled through a corner she dove into the first door she came upon. Slamming it closed behind her she looked around. Aidalar's library! She could lose Redfist here... running into the room she winded between the shelves until she found a partially concealed alcove. Squeezing in she kept very, very still.  
     It felt like an eternity. Yet just when she thought that, maybe, he hadn't seen her enter, or better, he had given up, did she hear the door. It could only be the orc. Surely, neither Aleeria nor Aidalar would slam the old wooden doors in such a fashion.  
"I can smell you, little bird," the orc growled, his voice suddenly so close that she was afraid he had found her. Carefully, she shifted and peered out. He had walked past her, his head swivelling this way and that, searching. When her hoof accidentally struck the wood he spun around, his dark eyes darting left and right. She held her breath as he walked past a second time. He didn’t seem about to leave. He knew she was in here. She did not know if he could truly smell her, but he had most definitely heard her just now. Quiet as a mouse, Rosalyne waited.  
     A little frown creased her forehead when she noticed how his footsteps moved farther and farther away from her, further into the library. This might be her only chance! She waited until she feared he might turn around and return. Quietly, she slipped out of the alcove and stole behind the shelves, back towards the door. Careful as a burglar she pulled the door open. Yet despite her effort it creaked, the sound deafening to her ears. A roar shattered the silence. Redfist had heard it too. Without a second thought Rosalyne stormed outside, across the hallway and down another corridor, up a smaller stair way and coming up short in a corridor with a dead end. There were rooms only here. Aleeria’s rooms? She recalled the larger one at the end was her bedroom, perhaps she was there? She did often take naps at this hour.  
     Running swiftly down the corridor she pulled open the heavy door. "Aleeria?!" she shouted, winded, all but trembling on her legs as she pushed the door closed. The room was deserted and on top of that the bed unslept! Her gaze darted from the bathroom door to the balcony, panic suddenly clawing at her. No way out! Seeing the long couch standing near the door she ran over and pulled at it. Too heavy. Worming herself in between it and the wall she put her hooves against the wall and pushed with all her might. Slowly it moved. It took her all the strength she had left to push it in front of the door.  
     When the doorknob turned and went down she all but fainted. Yet the door swung inward and would not budge due to the heavy couch. She could clearly hear the annoyed growling on the other side. She almost leapt into the air when something heavy slammed against the door with a force that made the wood shudder and the hinges creak. And, much more worryingly, made the couch move just that a tiny bit. Two, three more times it happened. Then it stopped.  
     With a deep sigh Rosalyne let herself drop down on the ground. There was nothing to it but waiting until Aleeria and Aidalar returned home. At least here she was safe. She sat for several minutes. Until she heard noise, seemingly from outside. No, not the hallway, but _outside_. A frown creased her brow as she glanced at the balcony's closed doors. She got up and made her way to them. She pushed one of the doors open and slipped outside. The noise instantly became louder, though she couldn't see its origin. The noise came from directly beneath her. Yet the smattering of curses that reached her ears told her enough. They were fighting. Redfist, clearly, had he gone back to the ludus? Thank the Light if he did. Though she felt sorry for whomever he was venting his rage on - Grommash or Lo'gosh. Lo'gosh more though, the human was swift and agile but if they were fighting in a confined space there was nowhere for him to go. She winched at a particularly loud crash. Quickly she went back into the room and barred the balcony door as well.  
     A high shriek escaped her lips when suddenly part of the left wall gave way as two men came crashing through it, revealing a narrow stair down behind them. Lo'gosh fell on top of Redfist, fist first, as the orc grasped the human's neck and wrenched him off his chest, all but throwing him back through the hole in the wall. Yet a split second later Lo'gosh came leaping through again. He jumped up from his crouch, the front of his bare foot hitting Redfist square under the jaw. Stumbling, Redfist shook his head as he grasped the human by the back of his head and dragged him close. Deflecting the human's leading punch he tipped him over and returned the favour of a well-placed kick. Groggy, clearly suffering under the orc's much heavier hits, Lo'gosh scrambled back up, only to catch Redfist's leading fist square past his cheek. A crunch like breaking bone punctuated the hit as Lo'gosh went down once more. Yet this time, he did not get up.  
     Rosalyne stared at the scene in front of her as if she didn't quite believe what had just happend. The crunching of bone send shivers down her spine. What had broken? Blood welled in the corner of Lo'gosh mouth and leaked from his nose, the drops quickly becoming a thin stream forming a puddle on the floor. Gathering up her skirts Rosalyne swiftly moved towards him, putting her fingers to his neck. Did she feel the blood pulse? She wasn't sure.  
     A yelp escaped her when she was suddenly dragged back. She had all but forgotten about the orc. "Let go," she called, grasping behind her at his wrist. He had his fist tangled in her long hair, close to the back of her head.  
"He started it," Redfist said, so close to her that she could feel his hot breath against her neck and cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. "I only wanted to pass". When she glanced down she could see his knees; he was sitting on his haunches and he had simply dragged her back to him, between them. "Tricksy, barricading the door," he growled softly. She could feel one of his tusks brush past her cheek as he leaned his face besides hers to look at her from the corner of his eyes. "Not very nice". As he spoke he reached his free hand up to her. To avoid it, Rosalyne tried to step back, unintentionally stepping closer against him. A low growl escaped the orc as he pulled her in, her back against his bare chest, his free hand brushing the light cloth across her stomach. Before she could even begin to protest he had grasped the cloth and tore it, as if it was nothing at all.  
"Don--" she started, but it was already too late. A satisfied growl escaped the orc as he pulled her against him, pressing his loin against her bum as his free hand found its way to one of her breast, roughly palming the soft flesh.  
"Let go," she repeated, struggling in his grasp. His hold tightened around her, his fingertips digging painfully in the back of her neck and breast as he held her in place.  
"You've flown enough for today," he growled as his hand dropped to her waist, holding her securely against his chest. "You promised you'd sing for me, little bird".  
"I promised you nothing," she spat, the way he pressed himself against her made her want to throw up. More so when under all the fear, and hate, she could also feel longing stir. Gritting her small teeth she pressed it out of her mind, forcing herself to think of who exactly was doing this. A sound of indignation escaped Rosalyne when he simply grasped her between her thighs, his hand pressing against her nakedness. A little noise, almost a purr, escaped the orc at the feel of the soft, warm skin.  
"Don't you dare," she started as she grasped his wrist with both hands, trying to tug it away.  
     A chuckle escaped the orc as he pulled her head slightly further back. "You have a bird's strength too." It was evident he found all this extremely amusing. When she felt his fingers brush past her, seeking her entrance, she struggled again, trying to twist away from his hand. A gasp escaped her when he found it, forcing one, then two fingers deep inside her. Whimpering in pain Rosalyne's nails dug into his wrist where she still held him.  
"Don't, please," she whimpered, weakly trying to pull away from his touch. Instead, he repeated his actions. Despite her little claws digging in his flesh and her struggling, he could feel her narrow body was responding to his touch, could feel the faint moist gathering around his fingers.  
"I said, _don't_!" she all but growled herself as she lifted her arm, bringing it down as hard as she could. Her elbow hit bone, sending a crippling sting of pain through her lower arm, but the orc's grip on her weakened. Struggling, she got up onto her hooves, wrestling herself lose from his hold.  
     With a roar the orc rose behind her and before she well stood his hand grasped her head again, and much stronger this time. "Bitch," he spat as he pulled her with him, ignoring her cries and the small hands once again clawing at his wrist. Stumbling she tried to keep up with him, but it was hard as she had to move backwards. Holding onto his wrist with all her strength she tried to keep him from literally dragging her by her hair. "Stop it! Let go you idiot!" she screamed.  
     Grasping her thigh with his other hand he all but threw her onto the bed. "Stop screeching," he growled as he pressed her down and climbed on top of her, bringing his face so close to hers that their noses were all but touching, his tusks pressed against her cheeks. "I thought you were a little bird, not a crow". There was a thin trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth.  
"Get off," she snapped as she shoved at him, her hands grasping at his neck and face, trying to push him away as she kicked with her hooves. With an annoyed growl he hunted after her hands, easily grasping them in his much larger hand. The strength with which he twisted them to her side made her feel as if her arms were about to be torn from her shoulder.  
"I asked nicely," he growled as he held the struggling Draenei tightly, one hand holding her head still, the other her wrists, and his heavy hips lodged against hers to keep her from kicking him with those hooves of hers. She spat. The look of surprise that momentarily flitted past his face would have been amusing in any other situation; but now it was swiftly replaced by a very, very angry scowl. The backhand that hit her cheek felt like a sledge hammer and caused small glimmers of light to explode behind her eyes. They left only slowly, her ears ringing with the force of the blow.  
     Stunned, she barely noticed how he roughly turned her onto her stomach. Only when she felt his heavy weight on top of her and his arousal between her thighs, did her mind grasp at clarity. She tried to turn back but his weight kept her trapped as surely as his hands had before. "Maybe not a song then," he growled as he roughly pushed one of her thighs further from the other, thrusting his hips against her, his arousal brushing against her warmth. "Perhaps I misheard," he growled close to her ear, "and the little bird only screeches?"  
     A shiver pulled through her body at his words. She didn't want him. Really didn't. Didnt. Didn't. Didn't! Yet all the same she could feel part of her respond. The part that noticed there was a man on top of her, his need firmly pressed against her. The part that knew exactly what to do with _that_. A cry escaped her when he pushed himself inside her, as forcefully as he had his fingers. It hurt. He was too big for her. Yet, at the same time, the feeling of him filling her out entirely was... _something_. It send all sorts of pleasant waves through her body as he touched every bit inside her that needed touching. A pathetic little mewl escaped Rosalyne when he pulled back, a loud gasp when he buried himself inside her once more.  
     The orc grunted, his breathing laboured. Leaning heavily onto his arms he no longer really held her. Clearly, his need had been much more immediate than she had thought. Again and again he thrust inside her, and though she could feel her bum and hips bruise under the harsh treatment she couldn't help but whimper at the pleasure it brought inside her, her hands twisting in the soft sheets beneath her.  
     The change did not go unnoticed by Redfist as her narrow insides became slicker around him, tried to hold him in when he pulled back. This, more than anything, stirred his need. He'd known she wanted him. Known she was just being difficult, just like the other one had been. A grin reappeared on his face as he thrust inside her now welcoming warmth ever harder, drawing ever louder gasps and moans from the woman. When his release hit him a roar escaped him that all but drowned the mewling little sound that escaped her as her body shivered underneath him. He noticed it nonetheless, pleased with himself.  
     Letting himself sink through his straining arms he laid down fully on top of her, enjoying the feel of her thin, soft body beneath him. However, after but a few seconds she started struggling, tugging at the blankets as if her life depended on it. Grumbling he stayed put. He liked it this way.  
"Get... off me... you... fat oaf," Rosalyne gasped. It was becoming difficult to breath. "Can't... air!"  
     When the heavy weight finally shifted she scrambled up, winching at how her chest hurt. Perhaps he had broken her ribs simply by laying on top of her?! She breathed slowly and deeply. It hurt, but not as much. Her insides ached painfully. She glanced up. He was lying on his side, holding himself up on one arm, grinning. Always that infernal grin.  
"Seems the little bird can sing after all" he observed.  
"Bastard," Rosalyne spat as she glared at him. Then in one swift motion she got up, snatched a nearby dress of Aleeria's from a modest pile and ran out. He didn't bother stopping her. Why would he? Let her run and sniffle to that meek human of hers. If she dared say anything to begin with. He doubted that. Glancing briefly at Lo'gosh, who was still sprawled and unconscious on the ground, he shifted back onto his back and put his hands behind his head. _Weaklings_ , he thought as he closed his eyes, grinning smugly at the ceiling, _all of them. Little birds and weaklings_.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it. And please, share this story freely (preferably as a whole, by sharing this story's main page). You may quote it. Tumble it. Print it. Hug it. Make love to it (what?!). But credit me and link back to the page on AO3.org associated to what you shared. Thank you. <3


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